That afternoon, after Ceci dropped me off, I gathered up my photography equipment. Packing everything up and checking to make sure I had it all helped stave off the gnawing fear of what I was about to do.

I checked off my camera and lenses, extra SD card, tripod, and some monolights with softboxes that Dad had helped me to make during our portrait assignment. And a notebook, to record the settings for each photo I took. Mr. Chamberlin encouraged us to take multiple shots of the same thing: Try the same shot with different filters, different focus, different light readings. Record them all. You'll begin to see what works and what doesn't.

Trying not to trip over our border collie, Betsy, I lugged everything downstairs and onto the front porch. Betsy seemed to think she was helping by nipping me along. 

Outside, the weather was perfect autumn: cool and crisp, with bright sunlight. Until I looked toward the woods.

The fade of the mist was there, always there, creeping in from whatever caused all that mist in the first place. Dad said it was because the land was only inches above the water table, but as part of my therapy he had taken me out there, armed with flashlights, and we hadn't seen any swampiness like he'd said there must be. I didn't trust it, even if I planned to go in. Just a little bit in. I had to face my fear, after all - it was part of the assignment.

The rumble of the school bus came before I saw it. I'd already hauled half the stuff down to the edge of the forest, stopping at a point where there was no mist, but on my second trip down, there it was, clouding over my pile of equipment.

"Yo!" Joey said in the least cool way possible.

I winced up at him as he loped over. He had half a Slim Jim hanging out of his mouth.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I just have to change my clothes," I said, putting my hands on my hips.

Joey's face lit up. "Ah, so you're the subject, then."

I hadn't given him any clues about what I wanted to do for my assignment, other than telling him my fear, which he already knew about, and that I needed his help.

"Yes," I gave him.

"Okay, so I'm going to be taking the photos, then?" He glanced at my setup. "Mr. Chamberlin might have a problem with that."

"I'm going to use a self-timer," I said. "I just need you here for... moral support."

Joey looked at me then, his brown eyes soft. "Okay."

"I mean, I might need you to check the settings and stuff. And set the self-timer, so I'm not technically cheating."

"Sure," he said. "You go on and change, and I'll make sure no goblins come out of the woods to steal your stuff."

"Very funny." I backed away, eyeing the mist nervously. I didn't want to turn my back on it. Also I wanted to get this whole thing over with, so I sucked in a breath, then turned and ran back into my house.

Back up in my room, I pulled out the long black gown I'd gotten for ten bucks at the Goodwill. It once had some hideous sleeves and rhinestones on it, and I had removed both, leaving the seams ripped for a deconstructed look. I put it on, and combed through my hair. Pulling a fleece jacket over my shoulders, I jammed my feet into my fuzzy boots and clomped back outside.

"Whoa," Joey said, then whistled.

"Stop it," I complained.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my tripod and mounted my camera on top. Even if I wasn't going to use a slow shutter speed, a tripod made it easier to maintain the same composition while recording and changing filters and settings.

I screwed on a red filter to start. According to our textbook, red filters darkened the sky and other blue tones, which would be useful to make my photos of the mist look like they were taken at night. At any rate, it would make them more dramatic. I was also going to try a blue filter, since eliminating blue tones would darken most colors, but would make the mist stand out more than it already did. Joey set up the lights where I told him to.

Eventually, though, everything was done and it was time to get on with it.

"Okay," I said. "I'm going to ease on in there and I need you to get a mark on how deep I need to go before I'm kinda... covered in fog."

Joey studied the forest, then bent his lanky frame over my camera to look at the display screen. "Got it."

I took a deep breath. This was it. The big moment. Into the mist I go.

I walked out with the boots and blanket still on, as I didn't feel like freezing to death just yet. The sky grew darker the moment I stepped past the tree line. The mist wrapped itself around me like a damp skin.

And then the sound just cut out.

I whipped around. "Joey?"

I had only gone about ten feet. Joey's bright red shirt looked faded, somehow, as he bent over the camera.

"Go further," he called, waving me on.

Looking back to the trees, I tried to deep-breathe the fear out of me. I took one step. Stopped. Peered into the fog.

"I mean, like, a lot further," Joey called helpfully.

I cursed to myself and took another step. And another. A strange elation passed through me. I was doing it! The trees around me were still clearly visible, sharp, though the trees further back were like a watercolor painting.

It all came to halt when a twig snapped.

"It's fine," I whispered. "Everything is fine." The words rang empty while my mind shrieked, the overwhelming fear looming large. Looking up, I could not even make out the sky for the fog.

Flap flap flapping overhead, crack crackling

"Joey?" I screeched.

If he answered, I couldn't hear him.

I turned, and couldn't see him. I turned again and again, and all around was the mist, pressing in. "Joey!" I screamed.

My voice didn't echo. The fog swallowed it. I strained to hear it, to hear Joey, but all I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

A twig snapped beside me and before I could spin around to face what horror had emerged, a a hand closed around my arm, reeled me in.

Before I could scream, my face collided with Joey's chest. "Oh, god," I managed to say at a normal-ish volume.

"I'm right here." He was so solid, and warm. My body was shaking. "Come on."

Keeping my face buried, he led me out of the forest. After a few steps, when I finally opened my eyes, I was surprised to see my camera there, only a few feet away. I looked back to the forest. Trees stark black against the fog, but so many trees visible between the edge of the forest and where the fog started. It was receding like an ocean tide.

"Maybe you're not ready for this," Joey said. "You could change your fear. Mr. Chamberlin would let you, I think."

My heart continued to race. I had thought I was ready.

"What even happened to you in there, when you were a kid?" he asked.

But I couldn't answer him. Whatever it was, it was so terrible even my own mind wouldn't let me remember. 

___

A little hint of creepy here!  

Did I geek out too much about photography?  I learned photography back when it wasn't digital cameras and loved it so much, and between this story and writing The Last Time We Met I found my old SLR camera and started playing around with it again.  My writers group said all the talk about filters pulled them out so I tried to cut some - let me know if it's still too much ;)